


a m b e d o

by shipwrecks



Category: Venom (Comics)
Genre: Alien Biology, Blow Jobs, Bondage, M/M, Sharing a Body, Symbiotic Relationship, That Tongue™, absolutely written to work thru my attraction to venom, tentacle fucking but in a pure way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 20:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipwrecks/pseuds/shipwrecks
Summary: You'll get better at knowing us.Slightly cryptic, but there's a change—a shift, something in the corner of his brain flutters and he feels Venom leave his mind. For a brief and strange moment, he feels leaving at the same time and that's—whoa.We.





	a m b e d o

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haemophilus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haemophilus/gifts).



> pixies voice Where Is My Shame...i guess i left that in my other trousers!!! so happy holidays heres technically a big ol' monsterfucking pwp aka some weird alien deep-throating as eddie tries to parse out what being a 'we' means. fun!!!!

**AMBEDO**

_n._ (English) a kind of trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—briefly soaking in the experience of being alive, an act done purely for its own sake

_v._ (Latin) I eat or gnaw; I consume

 

 

"It's—complicated," he said, although he was now thinking of the Gordian knot that was socialized attitudes toward sex, so Eddie figures Venom gets the picture.

**Why Eddie?**  
  
Oh. So he doesn't quite. Eddie reminds himself that his new headmate is inhuman and only got here a few weeks ago—practically newborn when it came to the strange rituals of human behavior.  
  
**NOT AN INFANT! NOT WEAK!**  
  
He was definitely going to have to have a conversation about boundaries. Again. He knew it was easy and natural for Venom to slip deeply into his mind, but he didn't have to—so sometimes he needed to not. Unless it became a bit more of a two-way street.  
  
**You'll get better at knowing us.**  
  
Slightly cryptic, but there's a change—a shift, something in the corner of his brain flutters and he feels Venom leave his mind. For a brief and strange moment, he feels leaving at the same time and that's—whoa. _We._  
  
"You're not an infant literally, V. I just meant—humans are kind of weird and complicated, and you just met us."  
  
**Humans are simple. You like to eat and fuck. And occasionally mess up your lives.**  
  
"Oh well what do you do that's so much more intricate? Biting heads off is not sophisticated, you know."  
  
He feels a little ruffle where Venom's settled in his ribs. He's worried he's—well, ruffled his feathers, but then it diffuses— _yellow?_ Eddie can't really describe all this new shit, but that's close—and V shimmers affectionately. They're joking. Flirting. And they're enjoying themselves.  
  
Since Eddie's along for the ride, what with being the wheels and all, he's getting to feel so many things for the first time again. That hadn't really occurred to him, when he let Venom in and then— ** _We_** , they think twice. Venom curls around his heart and gives the back of his knee a scratch from under the skin—a little favorite spot of Eddie's, startlingly intimate when he realizes he didn't tell Venom—they just _know_ —and then suddenly, boundaries feel not only impossible but quite frankly, undesirable. _They're_ different now. Venom feels this new understanding from Eddie and they're warmed from the inside out.  
  
**We've diverted from our conversation. You were explaining the shame of tentacle porn.**  
  
Of course, he got the symbiote that can't let things go. And can say tentacle porn so matter of factly.  
  
"It's...something that not everyone likes but enough people do that it's out there to indulge in. But nobody wants to admit they're one of the people that do. That's what shame is, basically."  
  
**Are you ashamed of us, Eddie? I arguably have tentacles. And you have dreamed about us using them in this way.**  
  
_Is nothing private_ he wants to say, but then—he knows, no. Nothing's private. Venom knows because he's—they're Venom. The heat already in him rises. Intimate. _We._ Eddie's dizzy.

"'Course not. You're just—kinda hard to explain. And—" _even I'm just figuring out what we are._

**We are Venom.**

He laughs at himself for forgetting that not talking isn't really effective anymore. Venom seems so unphased by this whole thing, but Eddie's the one who's never _had_ to share a body. He wonders if Venom gets to feel this— _I_ becoming _We_ —new every time.

"Yeah, we are. So…"

**So you stimulate yourself. Now we will. Not different.**

Eddie feels like it's a little bit different, but the argument is economic and effective. As is the thin tendril stroking his hip—Venom had clearly rifled through his—their—memories, saw something like this and remembered how they'd felt even though he hadn't actually been there.

**I thought you would taste good if I did this. Looked like you'd taste good when you did this with Anne.**

That brings an involuntary shudder out of him, that ripples through Venom and back around in some kind of arousal feedback loop. Eventually it slows, but they're way more turned on than he would have been as just Eddie. An incredibly underrated superpower.

**We do taste good, Eddie. But the flavor is weak.**

Binging the Food Network has apparently bore strange fruit. Eddie vaguely understands how Venom feeds on his brain chemicals, how they have specific (and not always good) tastes—but then he can suddenly _taste_ it himself—taste himself, as it were. Venom's right—it's good, but faint. Weird too—so weird, and being able to do things like this—what other people can't—is still terrific and terrifying. He's not really people anymore—they're something else. The tendril working on his hip has gotten just a bit bigger and has dropped lower. Heat pools low in his stomach, and he feels Venom sink into it.

**Fire that does not hurt.**

They laugh, which trails off into a rumble when another streak of inky black emerges and he feels tightening restraints around his thighs. Venom's rifling was likely scrupulous and complete, but Eddie also figures it probably wasn't that difficult to suss out that he likes to be bound. In an uncanny instant, he feels both the deep and commanding **You like this, being tied up, yes** —and the stuttered _Y-yeah_ in response. Both the straining against Venom and being strained against. Arousal—multiplied and compounded. Growing exponentially, especially as Venom produces more of himself at the ends of each of Eddie's limbs, pins him down all over his body—so immediate, Eddie's unprepared and overwhelmed.

He can feel his own arousal, growing as it has always done, alongside the flavor of himself—blooming and changing—tastes sharp and salty and sweet in ways so foreign, so _alien_ that the descriptors are really only approximations of reality. Venom's now formed above him—opalescent eyes shining in the dim light, teeth great and many in spiked rows, his tongue slowly lolling out with inherent lewdness. In a flash behind his eyes as he blinks, he sees himself—rather, his body—through Venom's eyes. Pulling against the restraints futilely—breathing shakily even though he's still clothed and untouched. Becoming extremely, throbbingly hard.

**Our body is changing, Eddie.**

"Yeah," he manages to huff out. "You've seen me do this—we get hard."

**When it's good?**

_Mm-hmm_ , he affirms, as Venom coils threads around his face, over his mouth and he's muffled—which pulls a moan right out of him, shivers against his mouth when he feels the sound. There's just _nothing_ like this. His tongue wraps around Eddie's _neck_ —feels like snake prey, like predator—and more dark, oily ropes appear from Venom, from Eddie's own body to choke him. He's lightheaded, suspended and not breathing for so long. It's made him— ** _them_** , they interrupt—painfully hard it's so good. Something kind of like _pleased_ or _satisfied_ rolls through them—Venom likes making them feel good, _that_ makes him feel good. Layers of arousal tingle and meet, and it's hard to keep straight what's Venom and what's Eddie—when Venom's tongue suddenly licks into their mouth, their teeth threateningly close but for the promise that we'd never hurt our Eddie, he realizes he'll never be able to—nothing is Venom _or_ Eddie. Everything is **_them._**

Venom drapes himself all over Eddie and somehow fucking _dissolves_ his clothes, and the sensation of Venom—his ephemeral liquid texture rolls along Eddie's skin in undulating waves. Melds into Eddie—to feel it all psychically _and_ physically. The taste—their own taste—is strong and heady now—thinks **_Tasssssty_** intuitively, _their_ thought, not one he's being shown. Venom's tongue is still pulsing and licking in his mouth as the restraints tighten further. Eddie's not even sure he needs to be touched at this point—the flavor of his building arousal so potent and new and strange—and it's like Venom's pouring it into him, down his throat and filling them up. He's absolutely already addicted, and he swears he can _feel_ a laugh from Venom that flutters through them—smug, naturally, but also deeply fond—so happy to give to their Eddie.

They're both thread pulled tight—Eddie's obscenely sucking on Venom's tongue, his lips reddening and swelling, his jaw aching from just taking it, and then he can feel the pain begin to diminish unnaturally— **Hurts there, Eddie. I make sure you are healed** — _Don't—_ We _like it to hurt_. The ache returns somehow doubled as a nebulous shape of _being whole_ surges through him—the sensation of Venom's pleasure at the _We_ , his own pleasure— _theirs_.

(There's varying degrees of compatibility between symbiote and human, but Eddie's body is just _perfect_ and Venom certainly sees no reason to go find another. And they _like_ Eddie, like being Venom with Eddie.

In about a week, they'll tell Anne about Venom—about how _they're_ Venom now. Anne, both predictably and to her credit, freaks out then almost immediately calms down when Eddie makes a face that he hopes convey all the strange reasons he'd do this. She understands the power, sure, but it's different—Eddie feels _chosen_ , the way they bond and what they become and can do—knows it's more than other humans Venom's tried to wear. **_We're sssssspecial, Eddie_** —and Eddie definitely knows that, and that's ultimately the simplest and most complete explanation.)

His cock is leaking desperately onto his stomach, flushed red at the tip. Venom pulls his tongue—his long, slithering, _alien_ tongue, bursts in Eddie's mind, hotter than it has any right to be—out of his mouth and they feel it slide, slick, against their throat—feel their throat against it—as an arm wraps around his torso and a clawed hand scratches down their back—pleasure-pain, his brain whiting out, his own delicate skin beneath their mean, monstrous claws. Venom's face lowers and the tongue wraps around their cock— **My turn** —and squeezes—an instant and intense pressure that's bracing and filthy. They know exactly how Eddie likes it— **you thought about our tongue quite a lot, Eddie** —slobbering all over his dick, the wet _squelch_ cacophonous—they can, of course, hear it twice as well, and it's an alien squish, loud and exciting—and Eddie's pretty sure the horrorshow that is Venom's mouth curls into a delighted smile, when they realize how horny Eddie specifically is for bizarre biofeedback from his very alien other.

It doesn't take long—Venom is going straight for the finish line, fast and rough, teeth hovering treacherously near his cock—and the push-pull of _So Dangerous—a wild thing with a gaping maw full of sharp teeth that tear flesh—_ he's _got the big teeth now, slurping their own cock_ — **I keep you safe, Eddie** — **you know that** — ** _We'd never hurt us, love, gonna give us what we need_** —is shooting straight down low, deep in him where he's going to snap. Venom wrings him and their whole body is racked with tremors—wrecked, spasming though their orgasm—effectively doubled—come shooting everywhere—some of which Venom constructs something of another tongue out of black gloss and licks clean, and Eddie might fucking pass out from it all—tasting themselves, _in every way_ , their flavor now soft, warm honey-like, glowing and golden underneath the acute bitterness of his own come, that's unfamiliar to them as Venom.

" _Fuck_ ," shakily, is all he manages to say before the restraints loosen and then disappear—he can feel bruises begin to blossom—Venom's face gone too when he opens his eyes—all of the symbiote back inside them.

**We could do that, Eddie.**

_No!_ but then immediately, _Not right now, darling. We're too sensitive._

Venom sparkles at the pet name, a rush of inhuman affection towards his other that they both give and get. Like a good drink, the taste of his orgasm—in his brain—has made him buzzed and sleepy. Or maybe that's the actual orgasm. Or, really, both. **It's both, but you are not used to tasting brain chemicals** — _you couldn't have gotten me a little used to them with something less...intense_ , he pokes back while Venom spreads throughout him and makes him go boneless, completely ready to fall asleep.

**I thought this would be the most delicious for us. I was right.**

_We certainly were_ —Venom flushes pink from head to toe, glitters, and it's impossible to not want to chase that— _to make them always feel so good to be us_. But he doesn't get much time to muse on that further, Venom pulls them into sleep—easy and deep, exactly what they need.

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK.........That Funky Little Danger Noodle has a service/praise/ _We_ kink!! you CANT change my mind!!!!!!


End file.
